A Tale of Two Princes
by roswellwbfan
Summary: Sam is Snow White and Dean is the Evil Queen. Wait—Is that true? And if so, how can they possibly get a Happily Ever After out of the tale? Disclaimer: Sam and Dean are not related. AU. Warnings: Rated M for abuse, rape, torture, slash, nothing extremely explicit but consider yourself warned anyway.
1. Chapter 1

Sam is Snow White and Dean is the Evil Queen. Wait—Is that true? And if so, how can they possibly get a Happily Ever After out of the tale?

Author's Note: So that was the idea. But then that idea morphed into this. And this? Well it's not as close to a Snow White retelling as I'd like (and you definitely have to squint to see the Disney Snow White elements) but it is what it is. I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Sam and Dean are not related. There are some SPN names and some non, just so's you know. No canon warnings as this is obviously AU. This was my entry for the last round of the J2 Ever After challenge but I know some people prefer Dean and Sam so I'm in the process of changing it for here. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Abuse and rape and torture, slash, nothing extremely explicit but consider yourself warned anyway.

On with the story…

It was a moment. All it took to change Prince Dean's life forever was one moment. And it wasn't even a particularly outstanding moment either. Rather it was a moment that Dean had already lived many times over. He and his sister were at the market, searching for something fresh to serve for dinner that night. There was the sound of raised voices and what seemed to the young prince's ears to be stones crumbling. He quickly grabbed his sister's hand and whereas on any other day Giselle would have protested she clung to Dean's fingers, allowing him to pull her away from the fracas. Then a cry went up but before Dean could do more than turn his neck in the direction of the shout he was struck in the head with something so heavy and hard that he surrendered to blackness without even a token protest.

And upon waking inside a rolling carriage he had learned that he was a captive. Dean had found that his hands and feet were both bound and the discovery filled him with fear.

That discovery now paled in comparison to what he'd already been forced to do as a prisoner. Dean struggled to compose himself. He wanted nothing more than to let loose with a curse, knowing that his magic would help him revenge himself upon the one who had taken him captive and had already forced him to perform truly vile acts but he knew he couldn't.

"You are so quiet, my little whore," the man, who was actually King Marcus of Campbell, the kingdom to the north, said with a laugh, "Saving your energy for our next romp? That would be wise; for once we have returned and I introduce you to my playroom your energy shall be expended."

Dean froze in place though he couldn't help but feel his ire rise. If he had his way, he'd—

"Of course, should you refuse I am sure your sister will be only too happy to take your place," King Marcus continued, reminding Dean of why he wasn't blasting the carriage apart and ripping him limb from limb, repercussions of using his magic be damned. His younger sister Giselle, the very definition of a princess in his family, was also being held hostage in one of the carriages. If only Dean's magic wasn't so dangerous to use! But he'd been assured time and time again that to employ his magic was to risk repercussions he wouldn't soon recover from.

When the carriage finally rolled to a stop King Marcus secured a collar and leash to Dean, ignoring the futile twisting and thrashing as Dean tried to get away. Once the collar was tightly secured he cut the bonds on Dean's feet. The carriage door opened and he stepped out into the air, descending the velvet steps which had been placed for his use. He yanked roughly on the leash and Dean fell out of the carriage and down the steps.

"Mustn't bruise that pretty face," King Marcus mocked as Dean awkwardly got back to his feet. "You wouldn't like the consequences."

Dean was going to say something, although he didn't know what, when his attention was diverted by a young lad. Probably a few years younger than his own eighteen years Dean watched as he bounded over to King Marcus who scowled when he noticed him.

"Where is Mother? Did you find her?" the boy asked and Dean couldn't help the gasp which escaped as the King backhanded the youth and sent him sprawling.

"Enough! Every time I return you insist on plaguing me with the same questions! She is gone, do you hear me? She will never return and it is high time you learn to accept it as truth!"

When King Marcus' hand rose again Dean didn't stop to think what he was doing he simply stepped in front of the King, keeping the lad between them and out of range. For a moment King Marcus froze then he let loose with a loud booming laugh.

"Oh ho! What do we have here? A display of spirit, hmm? It seems, Sam, you have found yourself a champion. Well, hero, let us away and see if we can't find a way for you to expend some of that energy."

And Sam looked up in time to see his father leading a young man away by what looked to be a collar and leash, as if he was leading a beast of some kind. It was obvious the man was a prisoner but Sam couldn't help but wonder why the stranger had stepped in to protect him. He vowed to sneak to the dungeons at the first chance he had and find out for himself.

That moment came before long, sooner than Sam would have believed but he'd been so intent on finding the young man he had fallen into silence at dinner, wondering how soon he was going to get to him. His silence had apparently pleased his father who had sent him off to bed without another lecture on his mother. Sam had long since memorized the guards' schedules so it was all too easy to wait until the wee hours of the morning, when the nightly guard was at the end of their shift and so more tired than ever to sneak away and down to the dungeons. When he arrived he had to clasp both hands to his mouth to keep the sounds inside.

The young man lay on the floor, his clothes torn and dirtied, and there was blood. Enough blood that Sam knew the man was injured seriously enough that he should by rights have been sent to the healer. But that wasn't going to happen so Sam resolved to find out what he could. And so he looked his fill of the prisoner and decided his earlier guess was right, that this was indeed a young man of a few years more than his own sixteen but no more than mayhap four. And he was fair of face, and would be fairer still without the grime and dirt which smudged his visage. He had a smattering of freckles which betrayed a love of the outdoors, a love Sam shared, and the most intense green eyes Sam had ever seen. Green eyes which were staring right into Sam's gaze and with a start Sam realized the lad had woken up if indeed he had ever been asleep.

"I am Sam," he told him softly, "What is your name?"

For a moment it seemed as though Sam would receive no answer. And then the stranger sighed.

"Dean, Prince Samuel. My name is Dean."

"What has happened to you? And please, call me Sam," Sam asked, unable to think of anything else when faced with the sight of this young man in such pain.

"Do not ask me to tell you," the young man (_Dean_, his mind reminded him, _his name is Dean_) said in a flat voice. Sam understood from that tone that he would not be hearing the answer to his query any time soon, if at all. He felt saddened for Dean and vowed to visit this courageous man until such time as he learned something which would keep him away.

"Why did you step in front of my father?" Sam asked.

"You did not deserve the abuse. I merely sought to stop that which I saw as unjust."

Sam nodded, pleased to hear the explanation as it confirmed his gut feeling that this young man was a good soul. Now he had to wonder why Dean was a prisoner.

"What happened that caused you to be placed in our dungeons?" Sam asked and he was surprised at the flare of anger which sparked in Dean's features.

"I was taken prisoner," Dean told him, "do not ask me more for there is no more for me to tell."

Sam frowned but respected Dean's request and fell silent. On that subject at least.

"I can tell by your freckles you enjoy being outside. It is something we have in common, though I wonder if we enjoy the same outdoor activities. What do you enjoy doing which causes your skin to freckle so?"

Dean was surprised at the prince's question, having thought the younger boy would simply leave after hearing no answer from Dean. He apparently wanted to get to know Dean which was yet another surprising thing although Dean was beginning to suspect that Prince Sam was quite unlike anyone he had met. And so to assuage his own curiosity and to hopefully distract himself from the not inconsiderable amount of pain he was in…Dean responded. The two young men began to talk and time began to slip away.

But despite his pain, or maybe because of it, Dean was determined to sneak out and return home. He knew he only had a short window and so he waited for the young man, for Prince Sam, to return to his own chambers. By the time Dean had managed to sneak out and learn the devastating truth—that his sister was not in fact being held prisoner as he had been led to believe—it was too late for him. He'd been gone too long for his disappearance not to have been noticed, and he could only hope Arthur had been able to find Giselle.

If Giselle had not been found then Arthur would most assuredly send out a search party, and word of that search would reach Dean. He knew just from the short amount of time he'd been in Marcus's castle that the guards were highly prone to gossip, and word of a royal search party would surely prove worthy fodder. As for Arthur sending out a search party for Dean? Well that was much less likely as both brothers had long since had an understanding that their sister's welfare was to be placed above their own.

Dean felt tears prick at his eyelids as he realized he was going to have to remain a prisoner. For escaping and returning home would mean war, plain and simple. He could not return and simply expect his brother to ignore what had been done. But war was impractical for their people, to say the least. They had an army of course but it was a small one and they were in the process of transitioning out older members who wished to retire. A war now meant recruiting young lads from the villages, untrained youths who would be asked to fight and lay down their lives for Dean, essentially. And so though he had serious doubts about his own ability to withstand a prolonged captivity Dean knew it was the price he had to pay in order to keep their people safe. As he curled up on the cot in his dingy cell the sun's rays broke through the small window and felt cold where they landed on his skin.

It was the first of many sunrises Dean would experience as a prisoner.

End Chapter One


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Sam and Dean are not related. There are some SPN names and some non, just so's you know. No canon warnings as this is obviously AU. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Abuse and torture, slash, nothing extremely explicit but consider yourself warned anyway.

Author's Note: Thank you to those who have read and reviewed. Your thoughts and time are always appreciated.

On with the story…

While Dean hated King Marcus he was not too proud to admit he was terrified of the king's brother, Theroux. If it came to a choice between the two of them Dean would pick Marcus every time. For while Marcus would perform and force Dean to perform acts no human should be made to suffer Theroux liked pain. And he enjoyed inflicting pain to an unhealthy degree. Plus he wanted to mark Dean's skin with burns and cuts and who knows what else but so far Theroux had only managed to be left alone with Dean once, although once was enough for Dean to have been left scarred by some instrument of torture Theroux had utilized before Marcus came back in.

Dean could see that night of torture the beginning of what was to come. Marcus had returned and had been enraged to find Theroux had "damaged" Dean as he had. Their fight had been loud and long and when Theroux finally bowed to Marcus Dean couldn't help but feel apprehensive. The way Theroux was looking at Marcus indicated there was retribution coming.

And Dean was right. Not two months later Theroux staged a coup and it was a violent bloody night the likes of which Dean would never forget. But as for Dean he had someone else to protect—Sam.

Once the king had been murdered and Theroux had usurped the throne Sam had been thrown into the cell next to Dean's, and the two young men only had each other for companions. True to his intention Sam had snuck out to visit Dean whenever he could, which ended up being once or twice a week. The young man had slowly but surely wormed his way into Dean's heart. Before he had been thrown into the dungeons he always had a kind word for everyone, and even after he became a prisoner he still found a smile for Dean whenever they would meet. Dean had used some of his magic, risking the repercussions, in order to loosen one of the stone blocks which made up the shared wall of their cells. No one ever went to visit Sam and Dean was only ever called for at night so by day the two would sneak into one another's cells and sit together and talk. This was how they had grown so close. But Dean was always looking for a way to safely leave the palace and get himself and Sam to safety.

Finally that closeness had driven Dean to consider something he'd given up on long before. Even though Sam was the rightful heir Dean feared for his life. Theroux was keeping him alive for now and thankfully had seemed to completely dismiss him from his thoughts but there was no telling why Sam was still alive nor how long his luck would continue to hold. If Dean could get Sam outside the palace they might marshal a force strong enough to challenge and defeat Theroux. They would have to rely on mercenaries for Dean disliked the idea of their people coming to harm but it could be done. He knew it could be done.

And one day he was escorted to the playroom where Theroux was waiting for him as usual but before he could get started on his nightly "playtime" a messenger arrived and called Theroux away.

Dean was left alone in the space and he took the opportunity to look around. He came upon a large cabinet which he opened gingerly. There behind the doors was a large mirror, beneath which were shelves which housed various items, one of which was a spell book. Curious to read it Dean pulled it off the shelf and opened it. He had only managed to read through a few spells before he realized they all had the same thing in common—they were all spells designed to enchant objects into becoming instruments of death.

"Hello."

Dean's head snapped up and he found himself face to face with a man in the mirror. The man was floating in circles and Dean frowned at him for a moment.

"Who are you?"

"I am Castiel, servant of the mirror," the man replied, "and you are Dean."

"Yes I am."

"I am sorry for your lot," Castiel told him gravely, "And I would help you if I could but I am trapped here by a spell. But maybe it will help you to know your suffering is almost over?"

"Almost over? What do you mean?"

"It means there will soon be a new name I shall announce to my master."

"A new name?"

"Yes. My masters ask me for the name of the fairest in the land and I provide it to them, albeit unwillingly. Yours was the most recent name."

"Who is next?" Dean asked, wondering if he could somehow get out and warn that person; encourage them to leave the land. "And if I were to get them out across the borders would that save them from being so named?"

"They would have to go to the sea, for that is as far as my sight currently extends," Castiel told him with a frown, "but I do not think you will be able to warn them."

"I must do something," Dean insisted, "I cannot simply allow some innocent to suffer if I can stop it."

"You are a strange one," Castiel mused, "but very well. I shall tell you the name of the next person…it is Prince Samuel."

All the color drained from Dean's face.

"No," he whispered in a terrified tone, "no, not my poor Sam? I must save him! But how?"

But Dean's musing would have to wait for another day as he heard the sound of the king's armed escort which meant Theroux would soon be back in the room.

"Thank you," Dean whispered to Castiel, "And someday I shall try and free you as well."

So saying he shut the door and went back over to the dais and tried to prepare himself for whatever torture Theroux had decided to inflict that night. Afterwards Dean was dragged back to his cell and he tried to remain quiet enough that he wouldn't wake Sam. But really, after the past three years spent next to one another in those cells Sam suddenly hadn't developed the ability to sleep soundly through the night any more than Dean had. Sam was bored, he claimed, without Dean there but Dean always pointed out he usually slept for a few hours at least when he would return from his sessions with Theroux so it's not like he presented Sam with any entertainment value.

"I sleep better when you're here," Sam insisted and so usually Sam was awake and waiting for him, and that night was no different. He crawled through the hole in the wall and curled up next to Dean, not saying a word but he yawned loudly and Dean knew he'd once again waited to sleep until Dean had returned. Dean waited for the pain to reduce to a manageable level and decided he would have to use his magic to save Sam. He could think of no other way. He only hoped the repercussions weren't going to be beyond his ability to handle.

But how to accomplish it? If they were discovered before they reached the borders of Dean's homeland they were as good as dead, and Dean at least only had a day's head start. Assuming they left almost immediately after his session with Theroux there was only that day before Dean would be noticed missing. And really, the likelihood of Dean being able to travel immediately after a session was very slim, and if he could manage it he could not manage it with any haste.

But Sam could.

Suddenly Dean saw what needed to happen unfold in his mind like a fan. He had to get Sam out, and what's more he had to get him beyond Castiel's sight. So the best way to do that was to somehow get Sam to go to the sea, to where he would be safe from detection. But there was no way of knowing when next Castiel would be asked for a name, not unless he managed to get some time alone with the man in the mirror once more. No, Dean could not rely on anyone but himself in this. He couldn't let Sam know what was happening either, or else the lad would surely protest at Dean's plan.

Dean briefly wondered if the time had finally come to let Sam know who he really was but he dismissed that thought almost as soon as he had it. No, if he let Sam know he was Prince Dean then there was every chance Sam would run to Dean's brother Arthur for aid. Dean paused for a moment to allow the grief which appeared at thoughts of his family to dissipate. No, Sam could not get Arthur involved for if he did their kingdoms would go to war and lives would be needlessly lost. Better to save lives by sacrificing his own.

And then he knew what he had to do. The only way to ensure Sam's name was not called was for Sam to die.

But how to kill Sam without actually killing him? His mind flashed back to the spell book he found, to the spells which enchanted objects into becoming instruments of death. If he enchanted an object weakly enough then in theory Sam would only remain dead so long as he remained in contact with that object. Assuming that worked then the rest of Dean's plan was actually quite simple. He could easily enchant a horse to carry Sam away, and he could send him to Doc.

The dwarf had lived in Dean's kingdom for a few years during Dean's childhood. His name wasn't actually Doc that was just what Dean called him since the dwarf was skilled in healing. And Dean knew the dwarf had left his kingdom to become a merchant and that his business was conducted between their land and in the land across the sea, meaning he had access to a boat. Dean had long considered both Doc and his most frequent companion (another dwarf whose constant smile caused Dean to nickname him "Happy,") friends so he knew Sam would be safe in their hands.

Once Dean had a plan in place he felt an odd sort of calm settle over him. Now that he knew he could make sure Sam was safe he let go of all his other fears. For that was the most important thing, he realized. Sam being safe. And he also realized why the young man's safety was so important to him…he was in love with him. How strange that he should find love in such an unlikely place. But how fortunate, too, that he had the chance to experience love before he died. He knew there were many people who traveled the road of life alone and he had never before thought to feel pity for them.

And he tried not to feel pity for himself, either, as he looked over at Sam sleeping next to him. Tried not to let the sadness overwhelm him as he contemplated the short span of his life once Sam left. For once he was safe then too could Dean escape. But Dean would escape only to find an army to lead, and he had no illusions about his chances of surviving a battle. It had been too long since he had wielded a sword and he could simply not afford the time it would take to retrain his body to be what it once was.

Though he did allow himself a few moments to imagine what their life together would have been like, should they have been granted different fates and of course if Sam had felt the same way about Dean as he did for Sam. Mayhap they would have been married, would have built a kingdom together that they ruled by day and loved each other regardless of the hour. He would like to wake up to Sam's visage every morning, see that smiling face as he welcomed the dawn. He would like to retire each evening with him as well, hold him close as they slept. Shaking his head he intentionally blanked his mind, knowing that he had to get in as much sleep as he could. Tonight he was going to steal a comb from the bathing pool he was taken to before each session with Theroux, and he would enchant it to keep Sam in a state of suspended life until someone pulled it from his hair. So he only had this night day to relish in the young man's proximity and he wanted to remember how it had felt to sleep next to him, knowing it would never happen again.

End of Chapter Two


	3. Chapter 3

I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Sam and Dean are not related. There are some SPN and some non, just so's you know. No canon warnings as this is obviously AU. This was my entry for the last round of the J2 Ever After challenge but I know some people prefer Dean and Sam so I changed it for here. Hope you enjoy!

Author's note: Thanks to those who have read and reviewed, it means a lot to me.

On with the story…

It had only taken a moment to complete his plan...at least that is how it felt to Dean as he snuck back into his cell after having watched the horse carrying Sam away as long as he dared. Now he had barely any time left for rest and he would surely need it, always one of the torture sessions felt worse if he had not managed to sleep. He had only just fallen asleep when he heard the sound of the armed guards arriving and he braced himself for the night ahead, knowing that it was almost the last of it, that as soon as three days had passed he would be able to enact his own escape. That was enough time for Sam to have arrived at the shipyard and for Doc to have received Dean's note and to have brought Sam on board.

Sam had never felt so strange. If this was a dream then surely it was the most peculiar one he had ever had. He felt disconnected from his body, as if he were merely floating, and then suddenly there was nothing. He was breathing, that was all he knew. He did not like the way he was feeling, did not like the aloneness he was experiencing. If he was dreaming then surely all he had to do was wake up and all would be well. If he were lucky Dean was still there. And at the thought of Dean Sam began to focus on waking up, and it was slow going but finally he felt himself fall back into his body fully and he opened his eyes. Only to have them widen in terror as he realized he was in a strange place he surely had not been in before.

"Where am I?" Sam asked, looking about in fright. After only a moment though he noticed something, or more specifically the lack of something, which made him feel positively terrified. "Where's Dean?"

"So you know Dean?"

Sam focused on the speaker, an older dwarf who was peering at him in what appeared to be concern. Then what he had been asked registered with him.

"Yes I do," Sam said, "where is he? What has happened?"

"All I know is Dean sent you to us." The dwarf said and Sam actually took in his surroundings and saw that he was in a wood-paneled room and there was a small gathering, perhaps half a dozen, dwarves gathered around the palette he was lying on. Their expressions mostly seemed kind although there was one whose brows were drawn together as if Sam was a disturbance of some sort.

"Who is 'us'? Who are you?" Sam questioned, searching for Dean and only seeing the small group of dwarves.

"I'm John," the dwarf who had been speaking said, "but you can call me Doc. This here's my best friend Bobby, everybody calls him Happy."

Sam looked over at the dwarf John was pointing to, the next oldest of the lot who indeed seemed happy to see Sam if the smile on his face was any indication. Sam nodded politely.

"I'm Andy," Another dwarf, who had a shaved head, announced proudly.

"We call him Dopey," another dwarf said, pausing to sneeze afterwards.

"Yeah all right, how about I call you Sneezy?" Andy said before turning back to Sam. "I'll introduce you to the rest of the gang. This here's Jess, and Jo, and Ellen, who you know as Sneezy."

"And I'm Gordon," the dwarf who had been and in fact still was scowling at Sam, interrupted.

"I call him Grumpy," Andy told Sam in a stage whisper.

"You can try it," Gordon said, "and then we'll start calling you dead."

"Who are you all?" Sam asked, "And where am I?"

"We're jewel manufacturers," Andy explained, picking up a pair of the largest diamonds Sam had ever seen, "we mine gems and then we transform them into jewelry for distinguished clientele. As for where you are you're on a boat, our boat, to be precise."

"You are miners?"

"Most of the time, although I think there's potential in these here diamonds for uses beyond simple adornments," Andy said, holding up the large gems to his eyes and looking through them as if they were spectacles. When Sam looked over at him Andy wiggled his ears and stuck out his tongue, making Sam laugh. Most of the other dwarves soon joined in.

"Boy you really are Dopey," Gordon groused, "put those down and quit acting like an idiot."

"All right all right," John or Doc or whatever his name was, said with a gruff laugh, "we need to find out what has happened to Dean. So Sam, tell us what you know about Dean and how you came to be dead."

"Dead?" Sam said on a gasp, "I am dead?"

"Not anymore," Bobby said with a kind smile, "but you were until we removed a comb from your hair."

"Dean was brushing my hair," Sam said, suddenly remembering, "And then there was a sort of a pinching sensation and then I remember nothing."

"Well the comb was enchanted to kill you," Grumpy said, "and if we hadn't pulled it out you'd still be dead."

"So why does Dean want you dead?" Andy said, "And who is Dean, anyway?"

"Dean was a prisoner in my father's castle these past few years, same as I was."

"Wait! You're Prince Samuel of Campbell?" Bobby exclaimed.

"I am, though it has been a long time since I was called by that title."

"And Dean is a prisoner?" John said, sharing a look with Bobby.

"I heard you were both dead," Ellen piped in, "how wonderful to know you are both alive!"

"But Dean is still a prisoner! I must return to him!"

"How do you know he didn't escape?" Jo asked.

"I do not," Sam said, "but my last memory is of us in the cell, together. Until I have seen with my own eyes that he is safe I must believe he is still held captive."

And Sam was quickly becoming distraught, not knowing what had happened to Dean. Earning his freedom tasted bitter without the other man with him. Although he relished the idea of their freedom he would rather remain a captive if it also meant having Dean with him. And now he was who knows where with people he didn't know and Dean was—where? Where was he? What had happened? Andy and Jess tried to comfort Sam as best they could while Ellen and Jo went about preparing some food.

"I'm goin' back to the wheel," Gordon announced before taking his leave.

Bobby pulled John away to a quiet corner of the room so they wouldn't be overheard.

"What do you think?"

"I think there's more to the story than we know, more than even the boy here realizes," John said, "and as much as I want to send word to Arthur I can't get his hopes up."

Bobby nodded.

"We must find out for ourselves if Dean still lives, for I would never forgive myself either if we were to contact Arthur only for it to turn out to be another Dean entirely or worse, if the boy has suffered some terrible fate for releasing Sam."

"It seems as though Sam knows nothing about Dean and who he really is," John said,

"And I would not betray the secret Dean has kept until such time as it is necessary."

"I agree," Bobby said quietly, "but what should we do about the boy?"

"Dean asked us to keep him away, probably out of fear of the boy being recaptured. The fact that Dean had to use so much magic to allow the boy to find us worries me, as does the lad's death. Why did he need to be dead until he was here with us?"

"There are many troubling things about this account," Bobby agreed, "But how do we keep the boy away while we try and find Dean? You can see from his emotions how he cares for Dean, it will not be an easy task to persuade him to remain here while we check out the castle."

End of Chapter Three


	4. Chapter 4

I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Sam and Dean are not related. There are some SPN and some non, just so's you know. No canon warnings as this is obviously AU. This was my entry for the last round of the J2 Ever After challenge but I know some people prefer Dean and Sam so I changed it for here. Hope you enjoy!

Author's note: Thanks to those who have read and reviewed, it means a lot to me.

On with the story…

Dean had waited the three days necessary and he felt as though they were the longest three days he had spent since being brought to the castle. And then it was the last night he was being called for…or so he had thought.

"I have thought of a new way for us to play," Theroux had announced as Dean was brought in.

Dean could see that Theroux had a heavy mallet, the kind of instrument he had seen blacksmiths use to help strike the metal into its proper shape. He cringed at the thought of Theroux inserting any part of it inside of any part of him and he tried to brace himself as Theroux came over. But Theroux did not insert the object into Dean… instead he used it to break both of Dean's legs.

Dean screamed and Theroux laughed.

And that had ended Dean's hope of escape for at least the next three months as he had been placed into two casts which restricted his movements. The guards had a wheeled chair they used to push Dean to Theroux, who had not ceased his lust for Dean at all, in fact Dean's injuries seemed to only increase Theroux's ardor, as the jarring of the casts caused Dean to cry out.

Dean had thought Theroux would tire of his constant screams but instead the opposite was true. His latest ploy was to bind Dean's waist in a corset and then pull the laces tighter and tighter until the lack of oxygen caused Dean to pass out. Then Theroux would do whatever he wished and loosen the laces just enough to bring Dean back to consciousness. And upon regaining consciousness Dean would begin screaming uncontrollably, having been brought back to a world of only pain. Over and over the cycle repeated itself and Theroux would always send Dean back to his cell still wrapped in the corset which would be removed when Dean was bathed the next night.

Unless Dean happened to remove it beforehand which he had slowly been able to begin doing. And he had come up with a new plan. He had to somehow get back to Castiel, the man in the mirror. If he was able to free him then Theroux would lose his access to magic. Dean would enchant the corset the same as he had done with the comb he had used on Sam and he would allow the guards to find his body. If they didn't burn him or bury him but merely toss him away he had a chance of being found or the corset being torn. It was an extremely risky plan which depended on so many things Dean could not control. But he began with the corset, cursing the breaks in his legs as they hampered his movements as he slowly worked his way out of the garment.

Those breaks were the reason Dean was still there when Sam snuck back into the castle a little over two months later.

Even though Sam appreciated all the dwarves had done for him and had even become friends with them over the last couple of months his mind was never far from Dean. Andy teased him about how often Dean's name came up in their conversations, always finding a way to interject "And what would Dean say?" or some variation thereof whenever they would talk. But Sam's most constant way of working Dean into a conversation would be to ask when they were going to go back to Sam's castle in order to find out about Dean. He eventually managed to convince the dwarves to go…at least Bobby and John, or Happy and Doc as he had come to know them.

And he had been filled with excitement at the thought of seeing Dean, of finally being back together. Though the dwarves were nice they weren't Dean, and being taken away from him so abruptly had hurt, to put it mildly. And not knowing what had happened was tearing at him but then he actually saw Dean.

Sam had managed to work his way ahead of the dwarves so he was the first to get to Dean's cell. And when he got the door open he was glad he was alone as the sight before him brought him to his knees.

"Dean."

Dean's eyes snapped open when he heard his name coming from the very last person he would have ever expected to see again.

"Sammy," Dean breathed out, trying and failing to lever himself up, "what are you doing here? You need to leave!"

All Sam wanted to do was wrap Dean up in his arms and never let him go. So he was not listening to anything Dean was saying, instead focused on how they weren't going to be apart ever again. He still didn't understand how they had come to be separated but nothing mattered now, nothing but being with Dean, who was trying to talk to him, he belatedly realized.

"What?" Sam said and he felt all gooey inside when Dean's agitated face melted into a soft smile.

"Sam you need to go and you need to go now," Dean said quietly, ignoring Sam's head shaking and continuing to speak, "just go before anyone sees you. I don't know how you managed to make it here alone but—"

"I am not alone," Sam said, "Doc and Happy are with me and a lucky thing that is too as I am not sure I can manage to carry you by myself with your injuries being thus."

"Doc and Happy are here?" Dean said and Sam nodded, liking how relaxed the words made Dean. "Well then I suppose that changes things. I need you to do something for me, Sam."

"Anything," Sam declared fervently.

"Do you see that garment?" Dean said, pointing to the floor beside his cot and Sam nodded as he saw the piece of fabric in question. "I want to take it with me, with us. But you need both of your hands free to help me so will you tie it about your waist and then it will be time to go."

It was a strange request and Sam could not find a reason to deny it, nor did he try to, more concerned with getting Dean out of the cell. He went over to Dean's side and picked up the item and seeing laces on it he wrapped it around himself. When it started to tighten on its own he scrabbled to remove it and looked at Dean who had his eyes closed but there were tears pouring out from beneath the closed lids.

"Why did you try to kill me?" Sam croaked out.

Dean paused at that and for a long few moments all the two did was look at each other. But finally Dean gave a small shake of his head and an even smaller, infinitely sad smile. And while Sam didn't understand a lot or really anything about this whole situation he was beginning to understand that Dean didn't want him dead. Which didn't make any sense seeing as he was actively trying to end Sam's life.

"Because you're the fairest of them all now." Dean proclaimed sadly.

Sam felt the darkness enclosing his senses and he lacked the breath to say anything else and he collapsed to the floor.

Doc and Happy made their way into the cell some minutes later and gasped.

"Dean! Sweet angels of mercy! What has happened?" Doc said.

"Get him out of here," Dean hissed, "and this time do not allow him to return! Please! There is only death for him here."

"My prince—" Happy said but Dean shook his head.

"Go!" Dean snapped, "You only have but a moment! And do not remove the corset until you have crossed the sea, do you understand? Now go and do as I say!"

End of chapter four


	5. Chapter 5

I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Sam and Dean are not related. There are some SPN and some non, just so's you know. No canon warnings as this is obviously AU. This was my entry for the last round of the J2 Ever After challenge but I know some people prefer Dean and Sam so I changed it for here. Hope you enjoy!

Author's note: Thanks to those who have read and reviewed, it means a lot to me.

On with the story…

"Dean," Sam murmured as he slowly came to reaching a hand out and feeling for his friend, "Dean?"

"I am sorry, lad," a voice answered and Sam thought it was one of the dwarves, though he did not open his eyes yet to see, "but Dean is not here."

"Why won't that bastard just leave you alone?" Gordon thundered and Sam had to wait a little to get his cough under control before he could speak.

"I asked him why he tried to kill me and he said something about me being 'the fairest of them all now,' whatever that means."

"Is that _exactly_ what he said?" Doc questioned.

"Yes, why?"

"Yes why? What does it matter what words he used? Or even that he has a reason in the first place?" Gordon, truly showing why he was nicknamed 'Grumpy,' thundered.

"It matters because it's the answer to everything." Bobby explained.

"How did he learn about it?" Doc asked Bobby.

"I don't get it, the answer to what? And how did who learn what?" Andy asked, scratching his head.

"Do you think he's old enough to learn the truth?" Bobby answered Doc.

"I don't think that matters, now. I think we have a bigger problem which is that now that we know what Dean's reasons are he's not going to stop." Doc said, shaking his head with a grimace.

"Will someone just tell me what's going on please?" Sam pleaded.

"How much do you know about your father?" Bobby questioned.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"Specifically the relationship between your father and your uncle?" Bobby continued.

"Oh for the love of Pete stop beating around the bush and spit it out! If you're gonna ruin the memories the boy has just do it quick." Doc snapped out.

And Sam kept quiet at that even though he had so many questions going around in his head, knowing that silence was the most likely path to the answers he was seeking.

"Your father used magic, though no one knows its source, to find those he wished to bed. And while the source of the magic is unknown what is known is what he would call them." Bobby explained.

"He would call them 'the fairest of them all,'" Doc said gently when he could see that Sam didn't understand.

"But that's what Dean called me!"

"Yes, and I would suspect that he discovered the source of the magic." Bobby added.

"I don't understand why that would make Dean want to kill me, though. We always got along so well." Sam said.

Doc and Bobby shared a look but before either one could say anything Grumpy spoke up.

"Probably jealous you were about to be the fair one."

Doc shook his head and addressed Sam.

"Would you have said Dean was fair?"

"Yes, in fact I would have thought him to be the fairest in the land," Sam admitted in a low voice, blushing madly and directing his gaze to the floor. And when he looked up Doc and the other dwarf were nodding at each other. "Please explain to me what you know."

"Dean is actually Prince Dean, from Winchester. 'Tis a small kingdom—" Bobby began.

"To the south, yes I have heard of it. From Dean, actually. But he never told me he was its prince." Sam interrupted, mind swimming. Dean was a _prince?_

"Probably because from the moment he was taken captive he knew he no longer ruled the land but was merely a prisoner." Bobby continued.

"Who's been ruling Winchester? Did my father usurp the throne?"

"No, Dean has an older brother, Arthur. He was gone on an extended hunting trip when your father attacked and so the throne fell to him unexpectedly that day. I suspect no one there knows Dean is even alive." Bobby told him.

"But why was Dean taken in the first place?"

"You said it yerself, boy; he's the fairest in the land." Doc told him.

And suddenly Sam understood all those injuries of which Dean refused to speak. His father had bedded anyone considered fair by the magic. And Dean had obviously been taken because of his fairness.

"And when my father died my uncle took over where my father left off," Sam said quietly.

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"Why didn't Dean escape? Or rather, once he did in fact escape why come after me? Why didn't he return to Winchester?"

"I suspect your Dean is quite the smart boy. He would know that should he return to his kingdom his brother would have no choice but to defend his honor by proclaiming war on your kingdom. I would wager Dean stayed to ensure your safety as well as that of his people." Bobby said.

And for the moment Sam ignored the flutter in his heart at the thought of Dean truly being _his_ Dean.

"So what made him change my mind and want to kill me?"

"He's not trying to kill you, Sam; he's trying to save you." Doc stated.

"Save me?"

"From his fate. Somehow he knows you're the next to be proclaimed the fairest in the land and he wishes to spare you his fate."

"And is what he has endured truly worse than death?" Sam whispered, afraid to ask but needing to hear the truth.

"If even half the tales I've heard are true, then aye, lad. 'Tis worse than you or I can imagine."

"What have you heard?"

"No, I'll not be spreading tales such as those. Suffice it to say your uncle was tempered by your father. But when he killed him he also destroyed any restraint he may have shown. Before your father and uncle joined forces none of those who were proclaimed 'fairest of them all' were killed. Eventually the King tired of them, it was said, and one day they were simply banished. That is how tales were able to be told. But then your father found someone who he kept for many years, and she only died once your uncle came to live with you."

"Not my mother," Sam said, knowing the truth although his heart did not want to accept it as such, "not my poor mother."

"I'm sorry Sam, but I fear that is indeed the case, though I wish it were not so."

"I had always wanted to discover the truth of what happened to her," Sam said "And I had often wondered if my father was right, that she did indeed leave us one day because she simply didn't want to be with us anymore."

"No, Sam, everyone who ever knew your mother knew that you were the light of her life, and she would never have left you willingly."

Just like he wouldn't have left Dean willingly, even if he thought he was about to die. Although honestly, come to think about it—

"Dean is not doing such a great job of killing me." Sam mused.

"What?"

And Sam blushed as he thought he hadn't said that part out loud.

"I mean everything he has done has been pretty easy to get out of. I mean yes I have technically died but that is only until someone comes along to free me from whatever it is he has done."

"That's true," Doc mused, "I hadn't noticed that. Very perceptive, young Sam. Very perceptive indeed."

"So what does that tell us about the magic?" Bobby asked Doc.

"Dean obviously doesn't want the boy dead forever, just for a short time. So Theroux must divine who is the fairest on a regular basis. And Dean must know how, and he must have intercepted the magic somehow and learned it was Sam and he needed to make sure Sam was not the answer the next time, that it was still his name or else Theroux would kill him and go after Sam."

"Where is Grumpy?" Sam asked, just now noticing the dwarf was gone.

"You do not think he went after Dean, do you?" Bobby asked Doc.

Doc groaned.

"That idjit! Come on, we must get to Dean before he does."

End of chapter Five


	6. Chapter 6

I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Sam and Dean are not related. There are some SPN and some non, just so's you know. No canon warnings as this is obviously AU. This was my entry for the last round of the J2 Ever After challenge but I know some people prefer Dean and Sam so I changed it for here. Hope you enjoy!

Author's note: Thanks to those who have read and reviewed, it means a lot to me.

On with the story…

"I'm here to challenge Dean."

"Dean?" Theroux asked, narrowing his eyes at the dwarf, "How do you know Dean?"

"He tried to kill Sam."

"Samuel? My nephew? When did you meet him?"

"Sam's been staying with us, trying to stay away from Dean, who keeps trying to kill him. And I'm done with it, so I'm here to finish Dean off."

"Seize him," Theroux tossed out nonchalantly to his guards, who rushed into action and quite soon had overpowered Gordon. "And search the castle and surrounding land until you find my nephew. Bring him and any of his unfortunate companions to me. I want them bound and brought to my playroom. And also bring me my pet," Theroux ordered and Gordon struggled uselessly against his bonds.

The sun was still streaming in through the bars when Dean was woken by the unmistakable sounds of the guards approaching his cell. It had not been that long, only a few days since his casts were removed and Dean was waiting only a few more days before he affected his escape. An uneasy churning had begun to build up within his stomach. When Dean was brought into the room the sick feeling increased tenfold.

"Sam," he whispered, locking eyes with the young man.

"Sam," Theroux said, "'Tis a wonder you are not proclaimed the fairest of them all." He mused, turning to Dean with a speculative gleam, "Although I begin to suspect much deception."

"Let us see if I am right," Theroux said as he secured Dean to the dais. After making sure Dean couldn't move Theroux walked over to the cabinet and threw open the doors. Sam and the dwarfs gasped when Castiel appeared in the mirror. "Mirror mirror on the wall who is the fairest of them all?"

"Sam and Dean both are fair, 'tis true enough to see. But Dean does not see his beauty anymore and thus Sam is the fairest of them all," the voice answered.

"Just as I suspected. Shall we show our guests just why you want to remain fairest of them all?" Theroux questioned as he turned to Dean, "Although due to your disobedience I'm afraid that is no longer an option. So let's take this opportunity to show Sam just what he is in store for instead."

"No," Sam said as his uncle walked back over to Dean, "leave him alone."

Theroux ignored him and reached down to a shelf below the dais, pulling out a wicked looking blade. He quickly slashed Dean's garments and nearly everyone gasped when they saw what was revealed as Theroux tore the fabric off Dean's body. So many scars, so many burns, so many marks hidden beneath that Sam wondered how he had missed them all these years, realizing in next moment that his uncle must've been very very careful with their placement.

"What have I done?" Gordon whispered.

Sam nearly screamed himself hoarse as he watched Theroux cut into Dean's mouth, and he vomited when he realized that the piece of flesh Theroux flung across the floor was Dean's tongue.

"Now before I kill you," Theroux said to Dean as he stood up straight and began to walk over to Sam, "I shall show you how quickly my nephew submits, how pretty his skin looks stained with blood."

Sam's eyes widened and his throat closed up. He struggled against his restraints but to no avail. His eyes were locked with his uncle's and so he missed Dean using his magic to free himself. He was so panicked it took seeing his uncle's attention diverted for him to realize his own bonds had been loosened. All of the dwarves' restraints were gone too and they rushed Theroux, who actually took a step back before yelling out for the guards. Sam looked to Dean who was over at the mirror's cabinet, standing over a bag and doing something with his hands Sam didn't understand.

"Dean!" Sam called out but before he could even take a step towards him there was a pounding at the door indicating the guards were there. Feeling panicked again Sam looked to Dean, whose eyes were already on him.

Dean tossed the bag to Sam, who opened it eagerly looking for a weapon. So when he found only apples he was heartbroken. What could he do with these besides maybe throw them at Theroux? Sam looked over at Dean and gave him a helpless look. Dean mimed eating and Sam didn't hesitate, trusting Dean completely. He took a big bite and distantly noted that it was possibly the most delicious apple he had ever eaten. But as soon as he swallowed the first bite he dropped not only the apple in his hand but the entire bag, knowing what the feeling he was slowly becoming overwhelmed by was all too well at this point.

"Dean," he whispered before crashing to the floor, knowing that once again he was at Death's door.

The display had not gone unnoticed by Theroux who pushed the dwarfs away and ran over to Sam, crouching down and feeling for a pulse.

"What have you done?" Theroux thundered, "He is dead!"

The door burst open and a handful of guards came in, looking back and forth between the dwarves, Theroux, and Dean. The dwarves all rushed over to Sam and Dean turned and ran to the far side of the room, as far as he could get from Sam and the dwarves. Theroux snarled and chased after Dean, and the guards followed their King. Dean waited until Theroux actually had his hands around his throat and was choking the life out of him before he unleashed more magic than he ever had before. The entire castle shook and Theroux let go of Dean but it was too late. Behind them the wall cracked and crumbled and came tumbling down right on top of Theroux, the guards…and Dean.

Sam and the dwarves were unaffected by the collapse and the dwarves rushed to where they'd last seen Dean.

They dug at the rubble, grunting and groaning at the weight of the stones, until at last Dean was freed. But his entire right side was crushed in, his limbs obviously shattered and Doc was amazed he even had a pulse.

"We've got to get them out of here," Doc said, "We need to find a proper bed and medical supplies."

End of Chapter Six


	7. Chapter 7

I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Sam and Dean are not related. There are some SPN and some non, just so's you know. No canon warnings as this is obviously AU. This was my entry for the last round of the J2 Ever After challenge but I know some people prefer Dean and Sam so I changed it for here. Hope you enjoy!

Author's note: Thanks to those who have read and reviewed, it means a lot to me.

On with the story…

Pain. There was nothing but pain. Dean wasn't sure he was alive, convinced he was actually in hell, that he'd finally encountered the repercussions he couldn't handle.

"You've been out near on three days."

Dean's head whipped to the side and he winced at the pain in his neck movement caused. Suddenly everything that happened came rushing back in a flood.

"Sam." He said, or at least…he tried to. When nothing came out he remembered that he could no longer speak and tears came to his eyes unbidden.

"I'm sorry," Doc said, "you've lost not only your voice but the use of your right arm and leg as well." He let Dean have a moment to absorb that information before he continued. "I think you were trying to ask about Sam? Is that right?"

Dean nodded.

"Well he's still dead, at least for the moment. Every other time you've made it so 'tis not a permanent death," Doc said, "so what is it gonna take this time?"

And Dean struggled to find something he could write with and ended up with a stick which he used to scratch some symbols into the floor.

"Okay I can see that's a heart," Doc said, "but um, what is that?"

Dean blushed and brought a finger to his own lips.

"Oh yes, I can see that now. So a loving kiss is all Sam needs?"

Dean nodded.

"Good to see you up and about," Bobby said as he wheeled in the chair which the guards had been using to cart Dean to and from his sessions with Theroux, "we've got some people to introduce you to but first let's go ahead see about Sam shall we?"

And Dean couldn't help the winces as Happy and Doc helped him to the chair but he did his best to remove all traces of pain from his features as he was wheeled into the room where Sam lay. And he breathed a sigh of relief at seeing the young man unharmed and he found himself under intense scrutiny from the small band of dwarves grouped around Sam's bed and he turned his face away as best as he could, knowing from their expressions that he himself must look horrific.

"Well go ahead," Doc said, gesturing to Sam, "nobody here loves him as much as you do."

But Dean pointed to Sam and then shook his head as he pointed to himself.

"Ah, Sam must be the one to be doing the loving. I see."

And no one could really say anything either way because there had never been a discussion about Sam's feelings or lack thereof concerning Dean.

"Well we won't know until you try, right? I mean what's the worst that can happen?"

Dean tried not to think about how creepy this actually was, kissing a dead guy. Tried not to think about how this would be their first kiss, although never had he imagined it occurring like this. Instead he told himself this was just more magic. He bent down and pressed his lips to Sam's and held the contact for a few heartbeats. When he pulled back everyone waited with bated breath until a few seconds later Sam breathed in a deep lungful of oxygen, only to breathe it out in an even deeper sigh. A few more moments later and it was apparent Sam was merely asleep.

Dean struggled back to the chair.

"Where are you going?"

"_My kingdom,"_ Dean mouthed and Andy piped up.

"What about Sam? He loves you."

Dean's eyes welled up until tears crested and rolled down his cheeks. He gestured to himself with his good hand and shook his head. The dwarves hung their heads, knowing that Dean did need to let his brother know he was alive but saddened at the knowledge the reunion was still going to be filled with sorrow, especially once King Arthur learned of his brother's fate and saw with his own eyes the damage wreaked upon Dean.

And then there was Sam. Once he woke up he would be devastated to learn of what had befallen Dean, perhaps even more upset upon discovering the older man's disappearance. And he would not be able to follow, for someone needed to rebuild the kingdom and the task fell upon Sam's head. He was now the king and could not just flit about however he wished. Like it or not he now shouldered the responsibility of running a kingdom.

Dean made sure to thank each dwarf individually, shaking their hands and receiving thanks in return which he dismissed with another shake of his head.

"_Playroom,"_ he mouthed and the dwarves wondered why he would ever want go back inside but they led him regardless.

He made his way to the mirror, which he proceeded to draw a number of sigils on. Once he was completed he wheeled back and they began to glow with a pulsating light, which disappeared along with the sigils. Once they were gone the dwarves gasped when the man climbed out of the mirror's surface.

"Dean," Castiel said, "I am ever in your debt for releasing me."

Dean shook his head and mouthed the word _'sorry.'_

"I used to dream about being set free," Castiel told him, "but I never thought it would happen. Do not apologize for needing to wait until such a time as it was safest for all to free me. You have given me a gift I can never repay."

Dean again shook his head but extended his good hand to Castiel, who eagerly shook it.

"I am so grateful," he said, "for now I am able to go find my brother who, when last I heard, was trapped in a mirror given to a ruthless beast of a man. I must see if I can save him."

_Goodbye,_ Dean mouthed and the man squeezed his hand once more before disappearing in a rainbow of colors.

"Dean!"

The dwarves and Dean turned to the sound and Dean frowned a moment before he slowly shuffled toward the noise. But he needn't have bothered as he only rolled the wheel once before his brother came running into view. He stopped cold at the sight of Dean and dropped to his knees.

"Sweet angels above…Dean!" he choked out before breaking into tears, huge heaving sobs which broke Dean out of his immobility and he wheeled over to Arthur's side. He gingerly placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and at the touch Arthur got to his feet and took Dean into his arms.

"What happened to you?" Arthur demanded and Dean opened his mouth only to close it with a pained look. Dean quickly glanced at Doc and then away, casting his gaze to the floor.

"Beggin' your pardon, yer majesty," Doc said, understanding what that look had meant, "but Dean has had his tongue cut out."

"No," Arthur whispered, fresh tears pooling in his eyes, "oh my sweet brother, what have they done to you?"

When Dean didn't reply, didn't move his gaze away from the floor, Arthur nodded and put his arm around Dean's shoulder.

"It is time to go home," he said as he kissed his brother's temple.

End of Chapter Seven


	8. Chapter 8

I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Sam and Dean are not related. There are some SPN and some non, just so's you know. No canon warnings as this is obviously AU. This was my entry for the last round of the J2 Ever After challenge but I know some people prefer Dean and Sam so I changed it for here. Hope you enjoy!

Author's note: Thanks to those who have read and reviewed, it means a lot to me.

On with the story…

Arthur paused outside of Dean's room. It'd been a month since he brought his brother home and though every day Dean appeared to be doing better physically his spirits had not lifted. At first Arthur had been furious with Dean, knowing that his brother could have escaped and returned at any time. But when Dean had slowly written out his explanation Arthur's fury subsided and a deep sadness took its place. How could his brother think his life was of so little value? However as Arthur had continued to read he learned about how Prince Sam had also been a prisoner and he couldn't help but feel pride in his little brother who would go so far to protect someone who by all rights should have been one of Dean's most hated enemies.

Arthur knew their people needed to know what had happened to their lost prince, especially since most everything he had done had been to protect them from a war they truthfully had very little chance of winning. And so Arthur had addressed the people and even though he knew they would be affected by their prince's devotion he had been surprised when beginning the very next day requests started pouring in from the people wishing to see Dean. And that was what brought him to be sitting outside his brother's room now. He took a deep breath and knocked.

"Come in," a feminine voice called out and Arthur smiled as he opened the door.

Their sister Giselle was sitting at the side table with Dean and the two were engaged in a game of chess. Giselle had been distraught when Arthur had returned from his hunting trip and learned of the events of that day. They had both thought Dean to be dead and Giselle especially took it hard. She had been waiting for them when Arthur finally brought Dean home and it took hours for her sobs to cease. Since their return it was rare to find her away from Dean's side.

"What brings you here?" Giselle asked, "Dare I hope you are to provide me with some adequate competition in this game?"

She laughed when her comment made Dean poke her hand.

"Our people wish to hear from you," Arthur said and then winced, "I apologize for my choice of words. But our people are happy you are here, and they know what you have done for them and so they wish to see you and express their gratitude."

Dean frowned and for a long moment Arthur was afraid he'd made the wrong choice in coming here. But then Dean nodded and mimed scribbling.

Dean made his way to the balcony and was nearly deafened by the cheer which arose from the gathered crowd below.

"Prince Dean wishes for me to read you a message," Arthur announced loudly.

"Prince Dean first and foremost wishes to express his gratitude for your well-wishes. Then he says that we should postpone any feasting until we have rebuilt our kingdom," he paused and looked at Dean, ignoring the murmurs which began to circulate below. "That knowing we all have a place to sleep, food to eat and our health and safety will make any food we consume seem much sweeter."

And the crowd again broke into cheers and Dean smiled and offered a timid wave to the assembled masses.

And as much as it pained him to do so Dean had to admit that with only one fully functional arm and leg he was more of a hindrance to their building efforts. Especially since any magic he would use to help in the efforts would require both of his hands to complete the spell, so he dare not risk getting it wrong and possibly injuring an innocent bystander. So he ended up helping to watch over the children of the village, as best as he could. And though the children were decent company once they got past Dean's looks they were not Sam, whom Dean missed with an ache that never went away. But he knew they would never see one another again, especially once Sam learned all that Dean had done to ensure his death. And he would gain that knowledge from Doc and Happy, who had remained in Sam's kingdom these past six months in order to help the young king begin to rebuild his castle and kingdom.

Hearing the matters of court were rarely of interest to Dean yet he sat by Arthur's side every time regardless. There had been no discussion of Dean resuming the throne and he knew Arthur was considering permanently aligning their kingdoms under one rule. But for now at least Arthur was content to travel back and forth between his own kingdom and Dean's, and Giselle seemed happy to remain with Dean indefinitely although Dean had heard rumors of the suitors his little sister was leaving behind in Arthur's kingdom. He wondered how to make everyone happy and it was a problem that seemed to have no solution and his mood was melancholy. But then a messenger arrived at court and Dean had to frown for messengers had become rather scarce of late after the initial influx from their allies when Dean was brought home.

"A messenger has just arrived from King Samuel."

And Arthur wasn't the only one who noticed how Dean perked up at that. He shared a look over Dean's head with Giselle, who hid a smile behind her hand.

"Please escort him in," Arthur said.

Dean was surprised to see Doc make his way into court where he stopped before the trio and bowed.

"My name is John, though all who know me call me 'Doc,'" he said with another bow,

"Yes, I remember you," Arthur said, "and I apologize for before but my attention was solely on my brother."

"No need to apologize, we were all grateful you were able to come and finally bring the boy home," Doc said with a smile at Dean, "And I would be pleased to have you address me as Doc."

"Very well, Doc. Thank you. Now then what brings you to our kingdom? You have news from King Sam?"

"I bring along the most heartfelt and sincere well-wishes for your kingdom and King Sam is quite dismayed he is unable to visit and deliver these tidings in person. But he has instructed me to present Prince Dean with a token."

And thus saying he dug around in his satchel and pulled out something which at first Dean could not discern. But once Doc took a step closer he could see what it was. It was a thick beautifully bound book, which Doc handed over with a smile. When Dean opened it he could see that Sam had written to him.

_You left without saying goodbye. I was hurt until I realized that must mean you do not consider the separation between us permanent, and then my heart was lifted._

_I heard of your injuries, and I cannot express how much I regret them. You have done so much for so many people and to know you have suffered thusly brings me great sorrow._

_I cannot continue until I know how you fare. So please write to me in this book I have provided, and then I shall write you again plaguing you no doubt with endless questions._

_I remain yours, always._

_Sam_

Doc sat down and Arthur looked at him with a bemused expression before he shook himself out of it.

"Thank you for delivering the message," he began only to stop when Doc raised a hand.

"Beggin' yer pardon yer Majesty," the dwarf said with a smirk, "but King Sam told me I was to wait here for as long as it takes for the prince to respond."

"Well, Dean," Arthur said with a booming laugh, "it appears you have a missive to compose."

And it seemed impossible that this was true, for Dean had not expected to ever hear from Sam again, let alone to receive a token such as this which indicated the young king still held him in some esteem. He did not have to wonder long at his response.

_Sam,_

_I am surprised to hear from you although pleased beyond measure. I was sure you must hate me, after all I am the reason your uncle is dead and that you were killed as well, even if but for a short time._

_As for how I am since you have heard of my injuries already I will not plague you with descriptions. I am learning to handle them every day and though it is a slow process I am determined to make the best of the situation._

_I am unsure what else to say so I will simply send my own wishes for your continued good health and prosperity for your kingdom._

_Always,_

_Dean_

End of chapter Eight


	9. Chapter 9

I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Sam and Dean are not related. There are some SPN and some non, just so's you know. No canon warnings as this is obviously AU. This was my entry for the last round of the J2 Ever After challenge but I know some people prefer Dean and Sam so I changed it for here. Hope you enjoy!

Author's note: Thanks to those who have read and reviewed, it means a lot to me.

On with the story…

Sam smiled as he saw that Doc had returned to him at last. It was quite vexing to have to wait for Dean to reply to his letters as Sam simply wanted Dean with him. But at least these past few years without seeing one another had been filled with these missives. If it had been this long since Sam had both seen and heard from Dean he feared for his mental faculties. But at least he had the book, or rather books, as it had become over the years. They each had a couple, being the ones to start a new one every few months or so, and Sam delighted in rereading the letters from Dean over and over.

That night he had been so excited to read the letter but that delight quickly evaporated.

_I cannot fulfill my marital duties. Such a stupid thing to write because I am not going to be married but I cannot consummate a relationship. The injuries I sustained must have affected that area as well, though I confess I had not wondered about it until recently. Mayhap it is silly to worry over such an insignificant thing, things could have been so much worse; at least I have my life. But perhaps I am becoming more human by worrying over trivial matters such as these?_

Sam's breath caught in his throat as he reviewed the latest missive. Dean had been thinking of marriage? That settled it. He could not afford to put off his plans any longer.

Arthur had wondered how long it was going to take for this day to come and he had thought it would not have taken King Samuel years to make it to the castle but then again when King Arthur had been to the palace years before he saw for himself the devastation Theroux had wreaked upon the people there. So it was admirable that Sam had remained devoted to his people, he decided, and he knew he was only feeling put out because of how much his brother cared for the young king. Being apart was difficult for Dean, he was sure of this, though he suspected part of Dean was pleased by the distance as it meant King Sam did not see his injuries.

"Thank you for seeing me your Majesty."

"I am the one who owes you thanks. For were it not for you I believe I would have lost my brother entirely."

Sam shook his head.

"It is my fault you were without him for so long," he told him, "and my fault your kingdom was ravaged by suffering for so long."

This time it was Arthur who shook his head. "I do not believe in blaming the son for the sins of the father. You were but a small boy who was kept in the dark both literally and figuratively."

"Thank you for your graciousness," Sam said, obviously moved.

"While I do wish to continue speaking with you I must first beg your indulgence by inquiring whether your visit is to bring us ill tidings? I've learned to ask so as not to be caught unawares."

"No nothing of the sort," Sam assured him, "believe me when I say that should I have had tidings such as those I would have dispensed with formalities in order to deliver them first regardless of the lack of manners such behavior would betray."

"Well I am pleased to hear it," Arthur said, looking over to a door next to the throne which had just begun to open. "I—Ah! Here is my brother now, unless I am deceived."

And indeed Dean made his way through the door. He smiled at his brother and then went stock still as he noticed Sam. Sam was here? Why? He had made no mention of any intention to visit their kingdom. Had something happened? Something which required their kingdoms to come together as allies in war, perhaps?

"Dean," Sam breathed out taking a moment to look at him before making his way over and kneeling at his feet, drawing surprised breaths from everyone. "Will you marry me?"

Arthur and the rest of the joined assembly broke out into surprised laughter. But Arthur could see that Dean wasn't laughing at the idea of marrying Sam.

Sam knew what people saw when they looked at Dean and indeed it was difficult to bear witness to the many injuries Dean bore all over his body. But to Sam nothing had ever looked so beautiful and so biting back tears he launched into the speech he had prepared for weeks.

"You are my light. From the moment we first met and you placed yourself in harm's way for me I knew you were someone special. As time went on and you were my lone companion I got to know the amazing person you are and I fell ever more deeply each day. And when I learned of all you had done to save your own kingdom as well as mine I was not only humbled I was determined to ask for your hand, to ask you to share your life with me, a life I want to spend trying to be worthy of everything you've already done for me. I am not asking you to be my husband because I feel indebted and can see no other way to repay you. I am asking because I cannot imagine my life without you and indeed I wish to have no other by my side. Please Dean, say you'll be mine?"

"Well, Dean, what is your answer? 'Tis unseemly to make someone wait to learn of your answer to their proposal of marriage." Giselle teased, having been the one to wheel Dean into the room.

And Dean nodded. Just once, but slowly and deliberately. The entire assemblage broke out in cheers.

"Can we do it now?" Sam said, coming to his feet and grasping both of Dean's hands in his own. He beamed at him and Dean felt a blush spread across his cheeks.

"No we must prepare a proper feast," Arthur insisted clapping a hand on each of their shoulders before turning to murmur to Dean. "It would appear that the kingdom has something to celebrate after all."

End of Chapter Nine


	10. Chapter 10

I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Sam and Dean are not related. There are some SPN and some non, just so's you know. No canon warnings as this is obviously AU. This was my entry for the last round of the J2 Ever After challenge but I know some people prefer Dean and Sam so I changed it for here. Hope you enjoy!

Author's note: Thanks to those who have read and reviewed, it means a lot to me.

On with the story…

"I now pronounce that you are wed. May your lives be filled with happiness and love."

Sam leaned down and pressed a short, sweet kiss to Dean's lips, smiling when he felt the pressure returned. He opened his eyes and smiled at his new husband.

"Perfect," Sam whispered as they pulled apart.

Dean could not believe they were married. Once upon a time he had dreamed such a thing might happen, surely, but to have it come true was something he had not dared to even hope for. And now, a short three months after Sam's proposal, here they were with Sam wheeling him down the hallway to what would now be their bedroom.

"It has been such a long day, I am truly glad we have waited to have our feast tomorrow," Sam said, "for the idea of resting with you is more appealing than entertaining anyone."

Sam's words broke into Dean's musings and he nodded in agreement. They would feast tomorrow but the candlelight ceremony had seemed to be the perfect way to end the day. There were servants waiting for them and they assisted Dean in getting into bed though he had become better at it over the years he did not wish to deny his people their desire to help him.

He must have been more tired than he thought for it was only upon being woken that Dean even realized he had fallen asleep. But once he realized it was Sam's tears which had caused him to awaken all traces of sleep left him and he reached out and touched Sam's shoulder, causing his new husband to flinch.

"I did not mean to wake you," Sam whispered and Dean shook his head and reached out for the wheeled chair next to his place in bed and he worked himself into it as Sam kept speaking. "I have had many nights with this same dream plaguing me and I had hoped that our new life together would banish these dreams. I am sorry my distress has disrupted your sleep."

Dean made his way over to their chest and retrieved some new clothes for his husband. After putting them down on the edge of the bed he went to their bedside table where a pitcher and basin were and he wet a nearby cloth, picking it up and carrying it over to Sam. He tugged on his husband's hem and Sam removed his clothes, reaching for the new ones but Dean shook his head and instead laid a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back. Sam complied and Dean wiped Sam down, watching as Sam closed his eyes and simply let Dean do what he wanted. Sam felt no shame though he did feel shyness, offering his body up to his husband as a gift.

As soon as Dean had finished wiping the sweat and tears from Sam's body he stepped back and placed the cloth on top of the clothes Sam had discarded, picking up the whole pile somewhat awkwardly before dropping them near the chest where they would be picked up and taken to be cleaned. He could hear Sam putting the new clothes on behind him and he went back over to his side of the bed but after only a moment's hesitation he got under the covers and scooted over to Sam. When his husband looked at him over his shoulder Dean opened his arm and Sam smiled, nodding as he pulled the shirt on over his head. Dean wished he had the use of both arms as Sam curled into his side, slipping into place in such a way so his head nestled under Dean's chin, his own chin resting on Dean's shoulder.

"I fit," Sam murmured happily and when Dean used his hand to nudge Sam closer the younger man tucked in even more, letting out a pleased sigh.

The next morning Dean woke to the sun pouring in to the room and he was filled with happiness, until he registered the other sensation…wetness. He had been drooling in his sleep again. It was nothing new, in fact it happened most nights, a byproduct of his mouth's deformation, but this was his and Sam's first night together and he had not wished for it to be marred by anything, let alone something so embarrassing.

"What causes you to frown so?" Sam asked and Dean looked over at his new husband, at the way his curls were in disarray, his cheeks flush with sleep, and shook his head.

Dean gestured to the bed and Sam frowned but dutifully looked where Dean was pointing. When he saw that Sam didn't see what Dean did he picked up the pillow, turning his head away in shame.

"Are you—is this about you drooling?" Sam said, "Because I already know. I was watching you sleep and I think it's adorable."

Dean's head whipped around. Sam had watched him sleep? And then the rest of what Sam had said caught up with him. He thought his drooling was adorable? Sam flushed and looked down and Dean realized he'd been staring at the younger man.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, misinterpreting Dean's look, "I just—I just woke up and when I saw you you looked so at peace I couldn't help it. It made me feel safe and I got caught up. I guess I just wanted to keep that feeling. I didn't mean to upset you."

Dean shook his head but of course Sam couldn't see that so he crossed the distance, using a single finger to lift the younger man's chin up, waiting until his husband had met his eyes again. He again shook his head but this time added a small smile to try and convince Sam he wasn't upset. But when Sam searched his face, clearly trying to read his expression Dean's smile grew wider and he wrapped his arm around the younger man. It took a moment but then Sam's arms were around him as well, and his head was resting on Dean's shoulder.

"Dean," Sam whispered, sounding a bit choked up and Dean squeezed him in reply, letting his hand rub down and up Sam's back.

"I know about your injuries and your worries about them in terms of our marriage," Sam began, worrying his lower lip between his teeth when he could feel Dean tense, "but I want you to know how happy I am to be wed to you. Last night proved to me that I can receive the love and affection I must confess I crave from you, and so I have no reason to complain. I can only hope you, too, will grow to find contentment in our marriage bed."

_I love you_, Dean mouthed and Sam smiled.

"As I love you," he said, leaning down for a quick peck. "And now we shall share a bath together!"

He didn't wait for Dean's answer, merely got out of bed and made his way to the door and upon opening it, called for a servant. It took barely a minute before one was there, bowing.

"May I please have some water brought up here for a bath for me and my husband?" Sam asked with a smile and he received a nod and another bow in reply.

Turning around he saw that Dean was once more upset and he wondered at the cause until it came to him. Sam realized what must have upset Dean. This would be the first time they had disrobed in front of one another, and the idea must be causing Dean no small amount of distress.

"Is it all right if I touch you?" Sam asked. "I wish to be the one to remove your garments and bathe you. Would you allow me to perform these actions?"

And it took longer than Sam had hoped it would for Dean to nod. But at least he had consented, Sam decided, looking on the positive side. He knew he would have to do more than utter pretty words for his husband to believe that there was no one else Sam wanted to be with and he hoped that this bath would be the first step. When the servants arrived Sam waited until it was time to disrobe then he gently dismissed everyone and went over to kneel by his husband's side. He waited until Dean had met his eyes and given him a nod before he too nodded and set about removing Dean's clothes. His eyes greedily drank in each inch of skin bared before him and he knew that Dean did not see himself as beautiful. But Sam did, could only marvel at the beauty that was his husband. And yes there were so many scars and marks; not just from the wall caving in on him but from all the abuse he had suffered, but to Sam he was beautiful. He picked Dean up and carried him over to the tub, where he proceeded to gently lower him in. Once Dean was placed Sam removed his own clothes and got in behind Dean where they proceeded to while away the time until the water went cold with gentle touches and caresses.

As Sam lifted Dean out of the tub and walked back over to the bed Dean felt so much love he almost could not stand it. Sam had been so gentle with him and he did not hesitate to touch him. It was more than Dean had expected and a gift he was ever so grateful for.

When Sam sat Dean down Dean laid back and patted the space next to him. Brows furrowing a little Sam nonetheless complied and lay down next to his husband.

Sam leaned his head down, turning so his nose could rest alongside Dean's neck. He smiled as he felt Dean wrap his arm around his waist, smile widening when he could feel his husband's hand begin to move upwards. Dean's hand stopped at the base of Sam's neck and Sam found himself holding his breath as he waited for his husband's next move. He only had a moment before Dean's head tipped toward his own and he soon felt gentle soft kisses against his jaw. He could only let Dean indulge for a moment before he had to twist his own head and seek out Dean's mouth with his own. They exchanged the gentlest kisses Sam could imagine for what felt like hours, and when Sam opened his eyes and saw Dean's smile he thought his heart would burst. Sam gently captured Dean's fingers within his own and brought them to his lips where he began to press tiny kisses to the pads of Dean's fingers.

"I have never…" He began to say and when he looked up Dean's eyebrow was lifted, the unspoken w_hat?_ lingering between them.

"Being with you…I am happy."

Dean nodded and Sam smiled at him.

"Touching you, being held so close, I feel—" he broke off and made sure Dean was meeting his gaze before he continued, "I feel loved. Cherished, even. Cared for. It is a thing I had long given up on feeling."

_Me too,_ Dean mouthed and Sam pulled Dean in to him, relishing in the ability to hold his husband like this, in the fact that their marriage gave him the right to be with Dean and no one else.

Later at their wedding feast Sam was delighting in holding Dean's hand and laughing at the tales Giselle and Arthur were telling of his beloved at a much younger age. There was a story about a horse Sam was dying to hear the tail end of when suddenly a rainbow of light erupted in the room. Everyone gasped and Sam tightened his grip on Dean, even more so when there were glittery bits of light which likewise exploded, leaving behind a man who stood up and bowed.

"Who are you?" Sam asked and the man laughed before executing another bow.

"I am Castiel, formerly prisoner of the mirror and now that I was freed by your husband I am the same simple magician I was before."

"You freed him?" Sam said turning to Dean who blushed at the awe-struck look Sam was sporting but nodded anyway. "You can do magic?"

Dean nodded again, somewhat shyly in return.

"Why didn't you simply use your magic to repair the damage?" Castiel asked Dean, gesturing to his mangled limbs. "You are strong enough to have done so, are you not?"

"You could have done that?" Sam asked and Dean frowned before turning to Castiel.

_Repercussions_, he mouthed.

"That's only if you use your magic to cause harm," Castiel chided gently. "Or else I should be asking what repercussion did you suffer from freeing me?"

Dean frowned, clearly not having considered the lack of repercussions the last time he employed his magic.

"Dean," Castiel said, losing some of his humor, "I was merely teasing you but now I can see that there is something truly amiss. Who taught you about magic? Surely you know about your magic's abilities and limitations?"

Dean froze. He'd never known that he could use his magic to help people without repercussions. He'd always assumed that whatever bad things had happened after he had used magic were the repercussions he'd been told to fear, never considering perhaps his misfortunes were merely that and not brought about by use of magic. He could have healed himself, could have helped his kingdom, could have—

"I must stop you, Dean," Castiel's voice suddenly interrupted, "for though I can tell what you are thinking I feel compelled to point out that things may not have ended up as they have if you had used your magic."

"A man who called himself Jafar was my brother's tutor," Arthur piped up to explain, "and a foul man he was. He would never allow Dean to use his magic, always stating that to do so would bring grave consequences. He had convinced us all that Dean's magic was a danger. He was only with us for a short time. We discovered he had left the kingdom shortly after a pair of rubies were also discovered missing. They were the rubies Dean would practice his magic on and we suspect they were imbued with his power, that Jafar had been stealing Dean's magic from him but we never suspected Jafar of lying about Dean's magical abilities."

"I shall send out a contingent to track down that snake Jafar!" Arthur announced and Castiel shook his head.

"Although I can understand your want to do just that allow me to assure you that stealing magic always has consequences. Jafar will receive his comeuppance. I am more concerned about your brother, and what damage his magic may have suffered."

"You mean he may not have the ability to heal himself after all?" Arthur asked and Castiel's mouth dropped open a little.

"I had not considered that but yes, I suppose it is possible that Jafar worked it so Dean's magic was still being drained. Well allow me to do the honors, then," Castiel said, "for I have yet to perform any task in gratitude for your employment of your magical skills."

And so saying he stretched his arms out toward Dean and a rainbow of light traveled from his hands to Dean who was picked up by the light. Sam likewise stood, hand outstretched toward his husband as if afraid the light would take him away. The light moved along Dean's body, bubbling beneath his clothes, causing them to dance over the space above his skin. Sam could only join the rest of the gathered assembly as they watched as the light reached Dean's face, which was slowly engulfed. When it finally dissipated Sam couldn't help but echo the gasps which resounded throughout the hall. Dean's face was…perfect. Gone were the scars and ridges which had marred the sides of both his face and neck, and the skin was untouched once more.

"Sammy."

Sam's eyes widened and then filled with tears as he realized that was _Dean's_ voice. His husband had his voice back, and the first thing he had said was Sam's name.

"Dean," Sam whispered back and then quite before he knew how it had happened he found himself enfolded in Dean's embrace with not one but _two_ strong arms holding him tight as if he never meant to let go. Which suited Sam just fine as he too clung to his spouse.

"Now that is done I think the lovebirds would like to be reacquainted. And it may take a while. So…we need more wine!" Castiel announced and Sam had only a moment to wonder at his words before he felt the world tip sideways and he clung to Dean until there was once more solid ground beneath their feet. Letting go of his husband he took a step back.

Dean watched as Sam stumbled a bit, obviously off center. When he regained his footing he backed another step away from Dean.

"I guess it is a good thing Castiel transported us here," he said, scratching at the back of his neck as he glanced around at their bedroom, "I suppose we should talk about some stuff, hmm?"

"Talk?" Dean said on the tail end of a laugh, "I do not think that is exactly what he had in mind."

Sam frowned.

"Well I think there's some stuff to say, don't you?" and then before Dean could even say anything else he continued. "So are you going to want to—" and he faltered for a moment, "dissolve our marriage?"

"What?"

"Maybe you thought I was your only choice because of your injuries and now that they're healed you want to find someone else?"

"Where are you coming up with these things? What makes you think that's something I want?"

"Maybe it was different when all we did was kiss. And now that you can maybe do—" and he again faltered, "do other stuff, I mean if you even want to do other stuff, maybe you want to do that other stuff with other people?"

"No."

"No?"

"No, I wish you to be the one I touch, the only one I touch," Dean assured him, "Let us retire to the bed and I shall massage your shoulders. Now that I am able to I wish to ease your muscles' strain and I know I am no lightweight so your muscles must be protesting lifting me earlier."

"They are not," Sam began to protest and then he realized that Dean was going to take his shirt off to avoid getting massage oil on it and he quickly decided that getting to see his husband without clothes was definitely something he should be encouraging so he continued, "I shall not refuse your kind offer of a massage, however, for I do enjoy being close to you."

Dean nodded as he walked over to their bedside table and Sam marveled at something which he had never thought to see again, something as simple as his husband walking. Dean gestured to the bed and Sam nodded, pausing to remove his own shirt and lay face down on the bed.

The chill of the oil against his skin was unexpected enough to cause Sam to yelp, which in turn made Dean laugh. But after a few moments Dean could see that while Sam was smiling he was undeniably saddened, as well.

"Have I offended you?" Dean asked, worried that his mirth had hurt Sam's feelings.

"Not at all. You should know I love your laugh and welcome hearing it even at my expense."

"Then what is it?"

"I cannot help but wonder if it was merely my reaction which causes your laughter or the idea of bedding me at all."

"What?"

And Sam had not meant to bring this up, not so soon after Dean's miraculous healing. But Sam was not going to be able to deny his attraction to his husband much longer. He had told Dean he was fine with the love and affection he had received and he was, he truly was. But now that Dean was healed maybe _Dean_ was not going to be content in their marriage bed.

"Perhaps you do not feel those types of feelings for me and are no longer able to pretend that bedding me is anything but a ludicrous notion."

"I do not find the idea of lying with you to be amusing," Dean tried to assure him but Sam shook his head and flipped himself over so he was looking up at Dean.

"You must show me then. I need not hear the words but your actions will tell me what I need to know. So please, I implore you. Show me that it is all right to be with you thus. Show me I am not a fool for longing to be joined with you in a lovers' embrace."

"I shall show you that and so much more, my love. You have but to ask and anything I can do for you will be done post haste."

And before Sam could ask again Dean leaned down and took his husband's mouth in a kiss. But not the soft, shy kisses from before. Being restored to his former body was still so new to Dean and he knew he had a long way to go before he was completely comfortable with it but the one thing he did not have to wait for was the desire to claim his husband as he was meant to be claimed. Long had Dean dreamed of having Sam beneath him, of touching his body and igniting a flame within them both that would only be quenched when their shared passions were released. So now he captured Sam's mouth and poured all the desire he had for the lithe form into it, utilizing his new tongue to tease open his husband's lips and lay claim to the sweet cavern behind them, acquainting himself with the taste he would spend the rest of his days addicted to.

Sam was glad they were lying down as he doubted his legs' ability to keep him upright. He had thought Dean would need more time to become comfortable enough to engage in a display such as this, had not even known there was passion this intense to be felt. But Dean did more than Sam asked for, more than he even knew he could ask for, he kissed him and used his hands to arouse Sam to a fever pitch until Sam was no longer sure of anything but his love and desire for the man in his arms.

"Dean," Sam breathed out weakly when their lips parted for a moment, "sweet angels above, Dean…"

"Do you feel this, my love?" Dean whispered as he rubbed his hips against Sam's, causing him to whimper as his desire ratcheted up a notch upon feeling the swelling in Dean's garments which matched his own, "feel how I burn for you?"

"Dean," Sam repeated, unable to think of anything besides his husband.

"You are the only one I desire, the only one I wish to bed. I shall spend forever wanting no other, desiring only your kiss, your touch…if you wish it."

"I do," Sam assured him, "I love you, only you."

"As I love only you," Dean said as he closed the distance between them once more, intent on spending the rest of the day, night, and forever until his love was convinced there was no other for him. It was a task he was looking forward to.

The End


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